Longing

At times it feels like a curse to yearn for things that don’t seem to exist anymore. Things that I can’t quite explain but that it seems must be out there waiting to be found. Things with heart and soul and passion. Things with life and love and watery depths. Things that were born before the metals and machines and will live on long after their time. I find them when I’m by the river, or on a wide open road, or looking up at the stars. I find them when I close my eyes to dream or I sit in the quiet and think. But what I truly long for is to find them closer to home yet still tangible. In a person who also longs for this fire that’s raging within my chest. Closer than an arms reach across the asphalt. Close enough to feel when I awaken and again as I close my eyes at night. I long for someone I knew once but have never met. Or if I have, we never crossed that street. I dream of home and the dream consumes me. And so I douse the flames with distractions for fear that if it ever does find me there may be nothing left.

©️ 2024 Cristen Writes